


I Could Never

by MellytheHun



Series: Tumblr Sterek Prompts [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Protective Derek, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: sterek: “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”





	I Could Never

Stiles is gasping on the ground, fire surrounding the Jeep, blood heating up around his scalp.

He groans, trying to fumble around for his phone; his hands are slippery, and he doesn’t know with what.

The smell of gas leaking is overwhelming, and he knows his car is about to go up in huge flames, he knows it’s bound to happen any moment, but his brain is moving really, really slowly, and everything is spinning, and it all seems unrelated to him. 

He stops flexing his hand for his phone, wherever it may be now.

He feels removed. Detached from everything happening around him.

His hearing is coming back in waves, and pops. It’s very unpleasant. 

His perception of time passing is definitely effected by the gash on his head, but it feels like it’s just a split second later that he’s fluttering his eyes open to a warm, callused hand on his cheek.

“Whuh?” Stiles manages.

“You idiot! Move!”

Stiles tries to glare at the person he totally recognizes, but can’t find the name for.

“ _You_ move,” is what lamely comes out of his weak, sore mouth.

“God damn it,” the man growls, slipping his big arms under Stiles’ limp body, and lifting him off the asphalt. 

There’s a sticky sensation at the back of Stiles’ head that he really doesn’t want to think about. His left arm might be broken, a rib is at least bruised, and - _Derek! That’s the name!_ \- Derek is carrying him away from the burning car, and lying him down on the grass. 

It’s really hard to breathe.

“Why’zit so hard to breathe?” Stiles wheezes.

“This is why I came back - can’t leave you idiots alone for more than five minutes at a time - hey! Don’t shut your eyes!”

Stiles’ groans unhappily, “what? I’m awake, I’m awake.”

Derek scowls at him, and pauses meaningfully before saying, “if you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Tha’sso rude,” Stiles chides, coughing, and gasping strangely, “For real, like - tha’sso rude.”

“You have a collapsed lung,” Derek announces, brandishing a blade that Stiles can’t fathom Derek owns for violent purposes.

“Wazzat? What d’wee’do?” 

Stiles’ heart rate spikes, and Derek grimaces, “don’t hate me for this.”

“I cou’never hate you,” Stiles rasps.

Derek stares at him wide-eyed for a moment, then steels his face, and Stiles doesn’t feel Derek move, doesn’t know what’s coming, but the puncture of the blade in his side is enough to get his body squirming again.

He half-falls, and half-kicks away from Derek, trying to crawl backward on his broken arm, and he fails miserably, collapsing again, gasping violently. Air is passing a lot more easily through his chest than a second ago, but his anxiety about the entire ordeal is finally waking him up to his surroundings.

He holds his bloody side with his bloody hand, and he stares in surprise at Derek.

“How’d you know that’d work?”

Derek doesn’t answer; he just takes Stiles’ broken arm in his left hand, cups Stiles’ side with his right hand, and leeches the pain out. It makes Stiles’ spinning head get even lighter, and dizzier, but it’s easy. It’s almost pleasant.

“’Zz nice to have you here,” Stiles murmurs, a small smile curling his lips as ambulance sirens start to form in the distance.

“If by nice you mean completely mandatory, yeah,” Derek grumbles.

Stiles smiles at him, not really understanding anything Derek is saying, and whispers, “don’t hate me, kay?”

Derek quirks a thick brow at him, and goes totally still when Stiles leans in, and kisses his lips gently.

It’s chaste, but Stiles lingers for a few beats. Long enough that Derek shuts his eyes, and softens his mouth.

Derek uses his lips to take more pain that’s pulsating in Stiles’ head, and he ignores what it does to his heart when Stiles moans against him. He knows it’s just the pleasure from the relief of having his pain taken, but this whole moment is new, and strange, and he can't tell if he wants Stiles to remember it or not.

When Stiles pulls away, he blinks up at Derek with his glazed eyes, blood drying around his hairline. 

Derek gives him a minuscule, reassuring smile, and says simply, “I could never hate you.”


End file.
